


A Present

by spn_wincest_etc (babybrotherdean)



Series: Prompt Fills [15]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Absurdly Large Sex Toys, Anal Fisting, Anal Gaping, Bad Dragon Dildos, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sam decides to get Dean a present, since he liked Chance so much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 10:55:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3526595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babybrotherdean/pseuds/spn_wincest_etc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Which one is this?" Dean asks, curious despite himself. He hasn’t spent quite enough time on the website to memorize their entire line, but some part of him still wants to know.</p><p>"Crackers the Cockatrice," Sam recites without hesitation, as though he’s prepared himself for the question. "Extra-large."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Present

**Author's Note:**

> _yay! requests are open! it's the anon from before [that asked about the big dildo] i was wondering, since you know about bad dragon if you could do a specific ficlet with one of their dildos? Either xar or crackers? i love b-d and i was so surprised when you used chance in that fic. uvu idc who is using it if it's solo whatever. youre magical. <3<3<3<3<3<3<3<3_
> 
>  
> 
> Anonymous request, and a continuation of the other BD fic! This is dirty porn. That somehow evolved into fisting! Good times. Enjoy!

It’s been three months since The Chance Incident, as Dean’s come to think of it, and things have definitely changed for the better. There’s something mostly unspoken between him and Sam, something that’s developed their relationship further than he ever imagined it would go. They’re fucking pretty regularly, now, and Dean’s convinced that things are about as good as they can get.

That is, until Sam comes back to the room one evening with a slightly nervous expression and what Dean recognizes, ironically, as Bad Dragon’s discreet packaging.

"Whatcha got there?" he asks, raising an eyebrow while Sam closes the door and gets his jacket off, setting the box down on the table while he kicks his boots off.

"A present. For you." Sam seems to gather his confidence properly once he’s inside, grabs the box and heads over to sit beside Dean on the bed, folding one of his legs under him before handing the box over. "You like the other one a lot, so… I thought maybe you’d like this, too."

Dean nods slowly, accepts the box and starts tearing off the tape, unfolding the flaps. When he reaches inside, he’s not surprised when his fingers meet something firm, smooth to the touch. He wraps his fingers around a pretty impressive girth- he figures Sam must’ve sprung for the extra-large, whoever he picked, and the thought’s enough to have Dean shivering- and pulls it out slowly.

It’s dark red, fades to purple at the base, but it’s more the texture that’s got his attention. There are ridges along the head, little raised scales down the shaft, and for a long moment, he just admires the thing.

"Which one is this?" Dean asks, curious despite himself. He hasn’t spent quite enough time on the website to memorize their entire line, but some part of him still wants to know.

"Crackers the Cockatrice," Sam recites without hesitation, as though he’s prepared himself for the question. "Extra-large."

Dean smiles to himself when he realizes that he’d been right, though he pauses a moment later. “Cockatrice… isn’t that like… a dragon-chicken hybrid or something?”

He can practically hear Sam rolling his eyes. “Dragon with the head of a rooster.”

"Sounds like something we’d hunt." Dean’s nodding his approval, though. "Cool. Never really thought the job would literally fuck me."

Sam snorts, even though he looks like he’s trying to hold it in. “Trust me, won’t be the job fucking you this time.” His voice has dropped significantly, and it’s enough to have Dean at attention in more ways than one. “Clothes.” 

Dean doesn’t even bother nodding, just sets down the dildo carefully before stripping off his shirts, dropping them on the floor before he goes for his jeans, too. It’s a familiar practice by now, and within a few seconds, he’s on his back, legs up and apart, waiting for Sam to make his move. 

His brother moves slowly, takes his time finding the lube, hums to himself as he pops it open and squirts some into his hand. He starts talking a moment later, would’ve sounded almost casual if it weren’t for the slightly husky tone in his voice. “This one’s not as long as Chance,” he notes, and Dean shivers as he feels his brother’s fingers smoothing around his rim, slicked with lube and pressing inside without much resistance. “But it’s thicker. A lot thicker. Gonna need to get you good and loose before we try, okay?”

Dean nods a little bit, remembers how it’d felt in his hand. He shivers, has a moment where he wonders how he’s even going to fit the thing inside him with its massive girth.

The first couple fingers are easy, the third meeting little resistance before Sam’s pumping them in and out pretty regularly. “Website said it was four and a half inches wide in the middle. You think you’re gonna be able to take that?” Sam murmurs, seems intent on his task. 

It’s a little intimidating, having a number to put to what he’d felt, but Dean doesn’t let that stop him. “Guess we’ll find out,” he says, a little breathy. “C’mon, you’re not gonna break me.”

Sam flashes him a grin, crooks his fingers, and Dean moans, arches his back when his brother finds his prostate. “We’re takin’ it easy tonight. Don’t want you to get hurt ‘cause you were over-eager.”

Dean grumbles a half-formed complaint, but Sam eases his pinkie in alongside the other three a moment later and he lets himself go quiet. He spreads his legs a little farther apart, focuses on staying good and relaxed. He can feel more of a stretch now, but Sam’s still moving slow and it’s not bad. Besides, his brother’s got a point: it’s always better to have too much prep than not enough, and he’s not especially eager to do something stupid and hurt himself with a dildo. That’d be one hell of a story to tell at the ER.

It’s quiet for a couple minutes, just the squelching of the lube and the soft sound of their breathing, Dean’s hitching and catching when Sam’s fingers brush over him just right. Sam speaks up a moment later, not especially loud. “Can I keep goin’? Still gotta work you open a bit more.”

Dean thinks there isn’t a whole lot farther Sam can go, but doesn’t say that. Instead, he nods. “Yeah, go for it.” He decides not to make any quips about how many fingers Sam thinks he’s gonna fit, because he’s pretty sure his brother can’t really compare to the dildo that’s waiting.

Sam smiles a bit, ducks down to press a kiss to Dean’s thigh before he continues. His brow furrows in concentration, and Dean watches with a sort of amazement as he carefully works the fingers he’s using in deeper, doesn’t pause until the widest part of his hand is inside.

"You okay?" Sam asks, and he’s the one who sounds breathless now, face flushed, erection obvious in his jeans. "Not too much."

"Just gimmie a minute," Dean murmurs, closes his eyes. The slight burn is there, now, but he can feel Sam’s free hand petting over his skin, working to soothe him, and gentle kisses join in a moment later. He knows his brother’s going to take care of him, and that knowledge lets him relax a little more, breathe out slow, and nod.

Sam smiles like he’s proud, kisses the side of Dean’s knee. “Good boy,” he murmurs, looks like he’s not even entirely aware of it as he starts pushing a little further. Dean can feel the nudge of Sam’s thumb, and then it’s sliding in, too, and he’s so focused on staying relaxed that he almost misses Sam’s breathless little laugh.

"Wow," he says, sounds disbelieving. "Dean you- you just took it. Holy shit."

Dean blinks his eyes open slowly. “Wanna expand on that?”

"My hand," Sam says, quiet and reverent. "You’ve got my whole _hand_ right now. Fuckin’ incredible.”

Dean smiles a bit, shifts in place and bites down hard on his lip at the way he can feel Sam inside him. “Gonna need it to take that fucker,” he murmurs, glances where the dildo’s sitting off to the side. “C’mon, fist me like you mean it, little brother.”

Sam breathes out another laugh, but does as he’s told, for once in his life, and starts moving a little bit, easy and slow. Dean watches the way his brow furrows with concentration as he twists his wrist, then jerks and moans at the graze of knuckles over his prostate.

Sam looks a little bit amused. “This is just business,” he murmurs, absent-minded. “Just gotta get you good and loose for the main event, right?”

It goes on for a few more minutes, Sam working his hand inside him slowly, helping him relax and get used to it. But Dean’s getting impatient, and he barely has the time to squirm in place before Sam’s nodding and very gently pulling his hand out.

"Yeah, yeah, impatient, I know," he murmurs. They’ve gotten even better at reading each other since this whole thing started. "Just hold on." 

Dean watches with rapt attention as his brother picks Crackers up, can’t help but lick his lips when he gets another good look. Sam’s hand is still shiny with lube, and he lets out a low whine, pulls his legs a little farther apart in invitation. 

Sam apparently elects to ignore him for the moment, focuses on getting the dildo good and slicked up before turning back to Dean. “I’m gonna take this slow,” he says in what passes for his no-nonsense voice in these situations. “And if it’s too much, you tell me to stop right?”

Dean can’t quite resist rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve got it. If I feel anything tear, I’ll make sure to scream.”

Sam makes a face at him, swats his leg lightly. “Shut up. You want me to fuck you with this thing, or not?”

Dean decides against pointing out the fact that he could totally do it by himself. It’s about a million times better when Sam’s here to help, anyways. “Alright, yeah. I do. I’ll tell you to stop if it’s too much.” 

He must come off as at least a little bit sincere, because Sam nods a moment later, apparently satisfied. “Good.” Then there’s the press of the blunt- _huge_ \- tip at his entrance, and it gradually starts sliding in.

It’s big. Feels bigger than Sam’s hand, though it might just be that it’s less forgiving, more consistent around the girth. Dean can’t help the gasp that escapes him, but as soon as Sam shows signs of stopping, he fixes his brother with a look that seems to properly convey the _don’t you dare_. 

So Sam continues. The thing seems to go on forever, stretching Dean in ways he hasn’t been stretched before, and it takes him a moment to realize when it’s bottomed out. It’s Sam’s free hand stroking over his chest and stomach that brings him back to reality. 

"You okay?" Sam murmurs, seems to be looking at him with some level of concern. "Not too much?"

Instead of responding to that, Dean rolls his hips experimentally, gasps at the way he can feel the textures working at him, pressing into all the right places, making him see stars.

Sam visibly steadies himself before taking hold of the base again, murmurs a quick “tell me if you want me to stop” before he starts moving it. Out first, the slow drag of scaled texture against the most sensitive parts of Dean, and then back in, filling him up all over again.

It’s a slow, torturous process until Dean makes himself an active participant, rocks with the movement of the dildo to get that extra shock of pleasure, that extra second of ecstasy. Sam takes the hint soon enough and starts moving faster, tilting the thing to an angle so it rubs hard against Dean’s prostate on the way in.

Dean’s a mess; moaning and all but writhing as his brother uses the dildo to take him apart. He can feel his orgasm building, pushing closer with every movement of the toy inside him, and he reaches down to get a hand on his cock-

Sam’s hand catches his wrist, pins it to the bed. “Wanna see you come just like this,” he breathes, voice rough, pupils blown, only a thin ring of hazel left to be seen. “Just like this, Dean. No touching yourself.”

When he releases Dean’s wrist, Dean doesn’t move again. He curls his fingers into the bed’s sheets to keep them occupied, focuses instead on the movements of his hips, on driving back against the thrusts of the dildo as hard as he can.

When he comes, it’s almost a shock, one particularly long drag over his prostate sending him over the edge. His spine arches up smoothly and he chokes out a moan, fingers white-knuckles in the sheets. Sam doesn’t stop, either, keeps working the thing into him, though Dean feels his brother’s hand on his cock a moment later, stripping it hard and fast for all he’s worth.

It’s drawn-out and intense, and it takes Dean a minute or two to become properly coherent again. By then, Sam’s carefully working the dildo out of him, setting it off to the side on the floor and then stripping faster than should be possible with all the buttons on his shirt. His cock is an angry red, looks painfully hard, and Dean almost sympathizes.

Sam crawls back onto bed a moment later, settles between Dean’s splayed legs, and just. Stares. “You’re all… open,” he whispers, awe in his voice as he glances up to meet Dean’s eyes. “I could just…”

And then he reaches forward again, the still-lubed hand sliding in with almost no resistance. Dean’s too orgasm-happy to care, just lets out a pleased sigh at the feeling of Sam’s hand inside him.

The sound Sam makes is almost pained, and Dean watches as his free hand goes to his cock, starts stroking himself hard and fast. He doesn’t last long, which Dean can’t really blame him for after all that buildup, and he presses his face into Dean’s thigh to muffle his groan, hips stuttering slightly as he spills over his hand and the bed sheets.

Sam seems reluctant to pull his hand out again, and Dean very nearly asks him to just keep it there. He figures that conversation can wait, though, because once Sam’s cleaned them both up, it’s much more appealing to settle down in his brother’s arms, sated and sleepy.

"Just opened right up for me," Sam mumbles into his hair, and Dean smiles a bit. "Fuck, Dean. So pretty. All over."

His brother’s always affectionate when he’s tired, so Dean decides to let that slide. “Yeah, I know. Maybe next time you can try both hands.”

It’s meant as a joke, but the silence after is a beat too long. “Maybe. We’ll see.”

Dean thinks they’re probably going to need to invest in some more lube.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you're interested in requests, hit me up at allywriteswords.tumblr.com!


End file.
